


Four nights and a matinee

by orphan_account



Category: Carmilla (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - High School, Carmilla in a princes outfit what's there not to like, Cinderella - Freeform, F/F, Musical, Pantomime AU, Theatre
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-14
Updated: 2015-04-14
Packaged: 2018-03-22 23:48:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,892
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3747694
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“I may be infuriating.” Carmilla states in a low voice, her lips close to Laura’s ear. “But you’re still going to kiss me.”<br/>"W-what.” Laura stutters.<br/>“Page 36, sweetheart.”<br/>Trembling, Laura turns the pages. Sure enough, there it is. “No.” She states, a bit too loudly. Her face goes red. “There is no way in Hell or Hogwarts that I am kissing you.”</p><p>Or the one when Laura is a drama nerd, Carmilla is cast as the prince in the upcoming production of Cinderella and there's probably a happy every after. PantomimeAU.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Four nights and a matinee

**Author's Note:**

> This took me way too long to write. I needed to write a new Carmilla fic because sometimes I'm just minding my own business and I get hit by Hollstein feels and it's either this or crying and waiting for season two. Most of the characters only make brief appearances because it's very Hollstein centric. Anyway here is the fun PantomimeAU that you didn't want but got anyway.

Laura’s heart beats rapidly as she leans over the crowd to get a closer look at the sheet of paper tacked to the drama room door. As she sees the letters of her name inked onto the paper, her body fills with joy. “Yes!”

LaFontaine laughs from where they are stood behind their friend. “So I take it you got a part then?”

Turning around to face her friend, Laura’ eyes fill with excitement. “I got _the_ part LaF. Look!” She points back at the door with the enthusiasm of a child and LaFontaine squints their eyes to see.

“I knew you would. Congrats Laura!”

Here’s the thing. Laura is a drama geek. LaFontaine would argue that to be the biggest understatement ever, as they don’t have enough fingers to count the times they have heard Laura singing various show tunes under her breath.

Laura is a drama geek, but she is also one of LaFontaine’s best friend, so they deal with it as much as they can. It can be annoying, but in moments like these, when Laura smiles so infectiously over what makes her happy, LaFontaine loves that their friend has something she is so passionate about. And it’s not like Laura doesn’t put up with their constant rambling about science anyway.

“I’m so happy the school has decided to do a pantomime this year!” Laura rambles, as the pair make their way to biology. “I mean, there’s so much opportunity. I’m gonna finally get to sing on stage! It’s gonna be awesome.”

“I can’t wait until I can watch it.” LaFontaine enthuses. “It’ll be the best performance of Cinderella I’ve ever watched.”

“Have you even watched any performances of Cinderella so far?” Laura questions, jokingly.

“Nope.” LaFontaine says gleefully. They reach the door to their classroom. “But I’m sure this one will be the best. Who’s the prince?”

Laura pauses. “I didn’t look. They’re going to be a girl, because it’s a pantomime. Probably.” She frowns. “Oh God, what if it’s someone terrible.”

“Laura, come on.” LaFontaine says. “I doubt it will be anyone you seriously hate. Don’t let that put you in a bad mood. You’re gonna play _Cinderella,_ in a pantomime of _Cinderella._ I mean what’s there to be sad about really.”

“You’re right.” Laura sighs. “And I know you’re dying to go into Biology right now so come on.” She pushes the door open, letting LaFontaine delightedly stride into the classroom, before following them. “I’m not gonna let anything ruin my day.”

Laura looks up, irritation flooding through her veins as she does. “Except for that.”

‘That’ in this situation is Carmilla Karnstein. Sitting in Laura’s seat. Leant against the wall with her boots on the table, all smirks and eyeliner as if she thinks she is some rebel from an eighties movie. She is sitting in Laura’s seat. Her black fringe falls in front of her eyes and her faded black skinny jeans have a rip in the knee. She appears to be examining a particularly interesting part of her hand and she is _sitting in Laura’s seat._

Laura balls her hands into fists and goes rigid. Sighing LaFontaine gently touches her shoulder. “Laura, there’s some seats at the back, we can just sit there today.”

“No.” Laura growls. “This is the seventh time this _week_ that she has done something like this. It’s time to take a stand.”

And with that Laura storms over to Carmilla like a tiny thunderstorm.

Laura coughs loudly when she reaches the other girl. Carmilla lifts her head, eyebrows raised. “Can I help you?”

“This is _my_ seat.” Laura practically snarls.

Carmilla smirks. “There is no seating plan cutie, free country and all that.”

“Yes but this is where I’ve been sitting for the past semester. Don’t be a b- bad person.”

An amused look works its way into Carmilla’s eyes and she speaks again. “As adorable as this little show is, I think the lesson’s about to start so you’d better go sit next to your friend at the back, Cupcake.”

“No!” Laura squeaks. “I don’t know what you think is so funny about messing with me, but so far this week you’ve taken my seat three times, hit me in the head with a soccer ball, splashed me with water, tripped me up and taken my pencil. Why?”

“Because your angry face is adorable, Buttercup.”

“You can’t keep doing this.” Laura splutters.

“Are you gonna tell on me or something.” Carmilla’s tone is condescending and she sits upright, taking her feet off the table. “You think just because you’re head of the drama club you automatically have to be respected. Well I’ve got news for you Creampuff, I’m not the head of anything and I still got the main part in the school play. Guess your system doesn’t really work after all.”

Leaving Laura’s body, irritation is replaced with confusion and she stumbles into a sentence. “I got the main part in the school play?” It comes out as a question, though Laura is so sure that it is true.

Carmilla even looks slightly confused at that, before her eyes spark with realisation and a smirk slowly draws its way across her face. Laura’s mind races. How could Carmilla-?

_Oh no._

She stands in shock, before the teacher walks in and tells everyone to go to their seats. Laura makes her way to the back of the classroom.

It’s only later, at the drama meeting, when Carmilla stalks into the room like an attitudinal breeze, when it finally begins to sink in.

Clapping her hands together, Ms Speilsdorf, the drama teacher, catches the attention of the students. “We have a play to work on everyone. A play that happens in two months. Look around you, these are the people you will be working with in those two months; your fellow cast members. I am going to give out scripts now and I expect you all to have read through them by the next meeting, when we will begin our group reading then rehearsing!” She pulls out a handful of A4 scripts from a cardboard box on the table behind her. “Here, take one pass it on.” She says excitedly, handing the student in front of her the pile.

When the scripts finally make their way to Laura, the pile a bit depleted now, she takes one and turns around, coming face to face with Carmilla. Aggressively dumping the pile into the taller girl’s hands, Laura narrows her eyes, tensing up.

Carmilla chuckles. “I don’t bite Cupcake.”

“Yes but you do take peoples seats.” Laura snaps.

“Oh we’re still not over that yet.” Carmilla passes the pile on and begins flicking through her script with disinterest, squinting at the tiny writing.

Laura flushes. “Why are you so… infuriating!”

Carmilla appears not to have heard Laura and is instead looking down at a page she has flicked to in her script, a smirk on her face and her eyes lit with delightful mischief. Laura feels her stomach drop dread filling her. Carmilla meets Laura’s eyes and takes a step forwards, which is not cool because _personal space._ “I may be infuriating.” Carmilla states in a low voice, her lips close to Laura’s ear. “But you’re still going to kiss me.”

“W-what.” Laura stutters.

“Page 36, sweetheart.”

Trembling, Laura turns the pages. Sure enough, there it is. “No.” She states, a bit too loudly. Her face goes red. “There is no way in Hell or Hogwarts that I am kissing _you.”_

Carmilla takes a step back, a look of offence briefly flashing across her face before she puts her cool façade back on. “Strange.” She says. “Most girls _beg_ for a chance to kiss me.” And now she is back in Laura’s space, their bodies almost touching. Carmilla can feel heat radiating off Laura’s body as the small girl gets angrier.

“I can’t imagine why!” Laura practically shouts. “Sure you’re attractive, but you have the personality of a… rude crayon!”

Carmilla bites her lip to avoid laughing at the insult. “You think I’m attractive.”

Laura goes bright red, much to Carmilla’s satisfaction, and is luckily saved when Ms Speilsdorf speaks. “Okay if you have your scripts you can go. Except for Ms Hollis and Ms Karnstein. I need to talk to you.”

Everyone floods out of the room and Laura breathes deeply, turning to Ms Speilsdorf. “Yes Miss?”

“Okay girls, you two are the lead parts of this play, the driving force. Because of this it has to be your number one focus okay. Remember it’s a pantomime, so don’t be too serious with your role but try and put some underlying impact into it.”

“Yeah okay.” Laura states, Carmilla nodding behind her.

“However.” The teacher adds, “You two _do_ need more practice probably, so I think you should stay here for an hour or so, reading the script and getting a feel for your characters. If that’s okay with your parents of course.”

“That should be fine.” Laura says curtly, trying to be polite even though she doesn’t want to spend another minute with Carmilla, let alone an _hour._

“Okay then.” Ms Speilsdorf claps her hands together, a habit of hers which Carmilla is finding increasingly annoying. “I’m going to go finish some work in the drama department. I’ll be back in about thirty minutes.” Picking up her bag and slinging it over her shoulder, the teacher walks out the room, leaving Laura and Carmilla in silence.

As soon as the door is shut, Laura turns on Carmilla. “We are going to read this script because we have to, as soon as the hour is up I am leaving because you are the worst person I’ve ever talked to.”

“Someone’s demanding.” Carmilla drawls.

Laura sighs. “Just read the script before I strangle you.”

“Kinky.”

The glare directed at Carmilla is as poisonous as around fifty snakes and possibly some spiders as well.

The play starts off with a big opening number (how cliché) and moves on to Cinderella’s backstory (riveting), intercut with scenes showing the princes privileged life and his mooning over wanting to find “the one” (what a wimp). Carmilla has to physically stop herself from retching on more than one occasion, if only for Laura’s sanity.

Not that she cares about Laura’s sanity.

They make it to page 20 when, true to her word, Laura stands up and begins to leave. When Carmilla sends her a questioning glance, she states, a bit too harshly, “An hour has gone and frankly I want to go hang out with people I _actually_ like now, so bye.” Carmilla sighs as Laura leaves.

Here’s the thing. Carmilla Karnstein hates theatre. Sure, she acts well enough, but she just dislikes the frantic need to be in the spotlight that everyone included in plays seems to have. Carmilla Karnstein hates drama and plays and musicals, but she likes Laura Hollis.

Or rather she likes to annoy her. She doesn’t know why but there’s some sort of satisfaction that comes from making the other girl irritated, so when she had heard that Laura was going to audition for the play, Carmilla could already see the look the girls face if Carmilla knocked her out of the spotlight. That hadn’t happened; what had happened was even better.

She was given a part that allowed her to annoy Laura as they went through the play, not just for one moment but for _two whole months._ Laura even had to kiss her, which was hilarious.

Come to think of it, Carmilla doesn’t really mind the thought of kissing Laura. At all.

Laura is annoying and uptight and not somebody that Carmilla would want to kiss. But, for some strange reason, she does. Or not really a strange reason. Laura is attractive, Carmilla knows that, and she is kind of adorable and maybe Carmilla likes seeing her rant because there is so much passion in such a small body and perhaps Carmilla likes that she is so caring about things and such a dork but also manages to be incredibly beautiful.

But Laura definitely does not like Carmilla back. Her reaction to the kiss proved that.

Carmilla sighs, she doesn’t want to kiss Laura when Laura doesn’t want to be kissed by her. There are, of course, only three solutions to this.

  1.        Quit. Quit now and they’ll find a replacement. Carmilla can go back to skulking in the hallways, trying to see if she can throw her gum into the hair of some unsuspecting freshman.
  2.        She can make Laura _want_ to kiss her.
  3.        She can run. Leave school and live life on the open road, buy a battered car and never come back. (Okay this wasn’t really an option but it’s nice to have a back-up plan).



Option 1 was usually the one Carmilla would choose but, to be honest, running is tiring and the last thing Carmilla wants is for people to think that she gave up. It would completely ruin her reputation. Also throwing gum at freshmen gets boring after a while. So option 1 is a no, option 3 is stupid, which leaves Carmilla with option 2. Option 2 which, she supposes, is a bad plan.

Carmilla is good at bad plans.

Laura comes into school the next day tired from reading her script all night. Her first lesson is French and, to be honest, she doesn’t want to go. She’s bad at French and Carmilla is in her lesson and she doesn’t want an argument.

However, when she enters the French room her eyes widen slightly at her empty seat. Carmilla is sat next to it, but not in it and for that Laura is grateful.

Cynically, Laura comments, “Did you get the wrong seat or something?” as she slumps down into her chair.

Carmilla looks up from the book she is reading. “No. I thought we should try to get along, since we have to work together for the next two months.”

Laura gasps. “You? Get along? Has hell frozen over?”

“No actually, I visited earlier and it’s still the same temperature it’s always been.”

Laura can’t help it, she smiles. Hesitating, she agrees. “I suppose I do see your point. About working together, I mean.”

“Also you suck at French and I figured you’d need my help.” Carmilla adds on.

“I do not!” Laura exclaims defensively, although she _knows_ that she isn’t good at French.

“Yes you do Cupcake.”

“My name’s Laura.”

Carmilla smirks. “I know.”

It turns out Carmilla is good at French. Like surprisingly good. Like fluent in it. Laura can’t help but think that maybe they should ask Ms Speilsdorf to include some French dialogue into the script because Carmilla sounds amazing when the foreign language flows from her lips.

Not that Laura is thinking about Carmilla’s lips.

Carmilla sits with them at lunch, or she sits next to Laura and then everyone joins them. Whatever niceties she showed around Laura immediately vanish and a sneer is etched into her stone face as she regards Laura’s friends.

Danny is _not_ helping. Danny is not helping because she is acting like a jealous child which is only making Carmilla sneer more and Laura want to rip her own hair out and wonder why she thought this was a good idea.

She needs to talk to them.

She’ll talk to Danny later but after everyone leaves the lunch hall Laura grabs Carmilla. “ _Carmilla_.” She hisses. “You can’t act like that around my friends.”

“Act like what, Cupcake.”

“Don’t play dumb. You were being rude.”

“Only a little bit. And it’s not like they were being nice.”

“Okay I admit Danny was being… irritable. But if you want to be my friend you have to at least tolerate my other friends.”

Carmilla looks down for a moment, biting her lip. She sighs. “Okay.”

“Alright.” Laura is satisfied. Linking her arms with her new friend she smiles. “Let’s go to theatre.”

Carmilla inwardly groans. (But she likes the feeling of Laura’s arm interlocked with hers so she thinks that maybe it’s worth it).

The next day Carmilla goes to the coffee shop before school and buys Laura a hot chocolate to apologise for her behaviour at lunch. She buys some coffee for herself as well and the drinks are incredibly overpriced but the look on Laura’s face is worth it.

A week later Laura buys ice cream for them after a play meeting to say thank you.

Rehearsals for the play are in full swing now, costumes being fitted and set being painted. Laura finds it funny whenever Carmilla acts the pretentious prince because the character almost suits her.

Laura doesn’t want to think about the fact that she’s comparing Carmilla to Prince Charming.

But the thoughts catch up to her when Carmilla and Laura both have to go backstage to get their costumes sorted.

Carmilla’s outfit is classical. She’s been given some white trousers, along with a white shirt, white waistcoat and a blue tailcoat. Laura can’t deny that Carmilla is attractive; she’d have to be blind not to see it. The collar of her shirt is creating shadows across her jaw and cheekbones in the dim lights of the small dressing room and when she sees Laura her eyes light up a little.

Laura has to wear this ridiculous pale blue dress which makes her feel like she is a pudding gone wrong.

“Hey.” Carmilla smiles and gestures to her dress. “Are you taking my nicknames seriously now, Creampuff?”

Laura blushes (a new development) and looks at Carmilla. “You look… charming.”

Carmilla twirls in a completely dorky fashion. “Yeah it’s not too bad for a poncy theatre costume is it?”

Laughing Laura says. “Oh god, if only everyone knew what a nerd you were.”

Carmilla growls. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Sure.”

Laura frowns because now Carmilla looks irritated and she didn’t mean to insult her. “Sorry.” She blurts.

To Laura’s surprise, Carmilla gives her a smile. “I’m not upset Cupcake, just trying to put my hair up because I’ve been told the prince can’t have long hair. Fuck gender stereotypes am I right.”

“Y-yeah.” Laura is a little embarrassed at reading Carmilla wrong because it’s pretty obvious now that she _is,_ in fact, trying to put up her hair. And failing. The other girl has a look of pure concentration on her face as her arms attempt to reach behind her head to do up her hair and it’s would actually be kind of cute if the expression didn’t keep on crumpling into one of frustration and anger.

Stepping forward, Laura offers. “I can help you with that you know.”

For a second, Carmilla looks like she’s going to decline, but then she shrugs and simply says. “Okay, if you can even reach.”

“I’m not _that_ much shorter than you!” Laura cries, indignantly.

“Whatever you say Cupcake.”

It turns out that Laura does actually need to sit on the makeup table at the end of the room so she can see what she’s doing. Carmilla stands between her legs, enjoying the feeling of Laura running her fingers through her hair.

“I’m gonna put it into a braid okay?”

“Okay.” Carmilla states, when another thought occurs to her. “Where did you learn how to do that?”

Laura goes quiet for a second, and the soft sound of breathing fills the small dressing room. “My Mom.”

“Oh.” Carmilla presses on the issue softly, because she, of all people, knows that family is a touchy subject. “Where is she now?”

“Dead.”

Laura braces herself for the pity party she’s about to receive, but all Carmilla says is, “Mine too.” And they leave it at that.

Around three minutes later, Laura pats the back of Carmilla’s head awkwardly and jumps down from the makeup table. “All done Carm.”

Carmilla notices the nickname but doesn’t say anything. “Thank you.”

“No problem.” Laura has reverted back into her happy persona. “Now let’s go show off our costumes!”

 Time flies after that. Suddenly there’s about two weeks left until the opening night, and they have practiced and practiced and practiced.

There’s this one scene that Carmilla _loves_ despite her general dislike for the play. It’s the ballroom scene and Laura absolutely cannot dance and Carmilla could spend hours laughing at the smaller girl tripping over her own feet (and sometimes Carmilla’s).

They haven’t practiced the kiss.

It’s the fourth rehearsal before the dress rehearsal and Carmilla’s exhausted and also pretty sure she can only think in lines from the play now and they still haven’t practiced the kiss.

The kiss scene isn’t the last scene, there’s a small sappy wedding scene after it which make Carmilla want to shove a wet towel down her throat. But it’s the kiss scene that they haven’t _fully_ rehearsed.

Sure they’ve rehearsed the whole play. _Multiple times._ But every time it comes to the dreaded page 36, Laura just pretends and Carmilla’s starting to think that in the actual play Laura will shove her hand onto Carmilla mouth and kiss the back of it.

They’re standing in the middle of the stage, the set up around them. Carmilla’s watching a boy named Will in the year below her, who is playing one of her servants alongside his friend Kirsch, pretend to fit a shoe onto Laura’s foot. He turns to Carmilla. “Your majesty. It fits!”  

There is an audible gasp from the two girls playing the step sisters in the background. Carmilla looks at Laura, rushing to her side. “It’s you. It’s really you.”

“Yes.” Says Laura, looking up at Carmilla.

“My love! I thought I would never find you again. I have fallen to pieces under the knowledge that I may never again lay my eyes on your beauty, yet here you are, shining like an angel.” Carmilla falls to her knees in front of Laura. “My darling, will you marry me?”

Laura tilts up Carmilla’s head so that they are looking at each other. “Yes.” She whispers.

And then she kisses Carmilla on the cheek.

Carmilla wants to bring it up with Laura, make sure she knows what she’s doing, but she doesn’t want to seem like she’s pressuring her into doing anything.

However, suddenly it’s the dress rehearsal and Carmilla _has_ to say something. She needs to make sure that Laura’s okay with everything going into the play. So she grabs her by the arm when they’re both standing in the wings before the opening number.

“Cupcake.” Carmilla whispers.

“Yes.”

“You know you have to kiss me right?”

Laura turns slightly red. “You have informed me already actually.” It comes out sharper than it should and pierces through Carmilla.

Staying straight-faced, Carmilla says. “Okay.” And then they’re both thrown into some cheesy, too-happy musical number.

The ballroom scene comes and goes and Carmilla stays rigid and doesn’t laugh when Laura almost falls over _again._ Then the kiss scene rolls by and Carmilla recites her lines with precision.

She’s down on her knees _again_ and honestly Carmilla had hoped she would never be on her knees this much without something sexy going on. This was not sexy.

“My darling, will you marry me?”

Laura bites her lip and indecision clouds her eyes. Finally she leans forwards, resting her forehead on Carmilla’s. “Yes.” She whispers and all Carmilla can feel is the close proximity of their lips and all she can see is Laura’s eyes and she is entranced by the spectrum of gold and brown.

Laura leans in and then her hand is there and she kisses it. Carmilla sighs and behind her she hears Wills friend whisper to him. “Whoa bro I thought they were actually going to kiss there. Hot.”

Carmilla feels her insides churn and she resists the urge to punch the boy. Numbly, she picks up Laura, as she is supposed to do, and carries her off into the wings so that they can prepare for the wedding scene.

As soon as they are in the wings, Laura looks at Carmilla. “Carm…”

“Don’t.” Carmilla’s laugh is slightly bitter. “You didn’t do anything.”

(She didn’t _do_ anything.)

But Carmilla’s heart still feels as if it is a pincushion for an overly-enthusiastic seamstress and her throat feels like it is filled with liquid.

She shrugs it down, looking at Laura. “Come on. We’re on in like five minutes and you have to get back into your dress again.”

“Sorry.” Says Laura, but Carmilla is already gone.

They don’t really talk again until the play. It’s weird because Carmilla has gone from seeing Laura every day to this. She knows it’s her fault. Every time that Laura wants to hang out or go get coffee, Carmilla has been ‘busy’. Before she knows it, it’s the play and Laura is shyly standing next to her, which is weird because when did their relationship get ‘shy’.

(Carmilla knows exactly when.)

The play starts and Carmilla has to do that _stupid_ song and there are so many people in the theatre. She exits, stage left, leaving Laura on stage.

Ticking by, time moves slowly as Carmilla sits in the wings for the two starting scenes she’s not in. She watches Laura act with unwavering eyes because even in Cinderella’s rags Laura looks stunning. Her cue is said and she walks onstage to do her whole ‘brooding prince’ thing.

Afterwards, Carmilla goes backstage to quickly grab her props for the ball scene. The ugly step sisters have a duet which gives her time. Laura grabs her and drags her into the dressing room.

“What the f-” Carmilla murmurs, before seeing Laura’s panicked face.

“Carm.” Laura whispers tensely, before turning around to show her back revealed by her unzipped ball gown. “I can’t do up my dress!”

Carmilla can’t help it.

She starts to laugh. And laugh. And laugh. And boy does it feel good. However, a minute later, Carmilla is not laughing as she struggles to yank the zip up Laura’s back. Finally, it becomes uncaught from the material and pulls upwards.

“Son of a bitch!” Carmilla cries. “Finally.”

“Yeah I know.” Laura jokes. “This dress is a nuisance to do up.” She steps closer to Carmilla.

Carmilla hesitates before running her hand through her hair and backing off. “The scene is about to start. We have to go.”

“I know.”

The ball scene goes well and surprisingly Laura’s dancing isn’t bad. She must have been practicing.

Carmilla leans down so that her lips are by Laura’s ears and whispers. “Thanks for saving my toes, Cupcake.”

Laura looks up. “No problem. Look Carm-”

“If you’re going to apologise you don’t have to. Listen Laura, I’m only cross because I want to kiss you and you don’t want to kiss me back. I shouldn’t be cross about that because that would mean I didn’t respect you. And I do. Respect you. You’re the best friend I’ve ever had. You were nice to me even when I was horrible to you and I didn’t deserve that but you still gave it to me.”

Laura looks like she’s going to say something, but then the sound effects chime midnight and she runs off and Carmilla can’t even _begin_ to think how ironic that is.

She exits stage again, in pursuit of Laura.

A few scenes have passed, and in all her life, Carmilla doesn’t think that she’s been this nervous. Wiping her sweaty hands on her white trousers and hoping they don’t leave a mark, she enters the stage, followed by Will and Kirsch.

The scene is a blur, Will tries the shoe on the feet of both the step-sisters and Carmilla can barely hear their lines through the buzz in her ears. Laura comes in from the wings and there’s an interaction before Will is turning around and shouting. “Your majesty. It fits!”

Carmilla runs to Laura. “It’s you. It’s really you.”

“Yes.” Laura looks like an angel and Carmilla recites her speech with precision, before dropping to her knees.

“My darling, will you marry me?”

“Yes.” Laura says this loudly, for the whole audience to hear, but then as she leans down she whispers. “I want to kiss you too.”

Their mouths connect and Carmilla stands, pressing into Laura. She can hear wolf whistles coming from the audience but she doesn’t even care; Laura’s lips are soft against hers and her hand is clutching at Carmilla’s waist. Gently, Carmilla breaks the kiss. Laura pouts, but then laughs as Carmilla picks her up bridal style and carries her offstage.

The wedding scene is short and cheesy, but Carmilla doesn’t feel as irritated by it as she did before. She kisses Laura again when the show ends, in the darkened dressing room after they had all done their bows. This time they don’t have an audience or a time limit and the kiss is less sweet and more desperate. Filled with _want_ and _thank god we made it._

She grabs Laura’s thighs and lifts her onto the makeup table, pressing kisses to her neck. In between kisses she breathes. “I don’t want this to end.”

Laura laughs and it’s music. “Well,” she says, planting a kiss on Carmilla’s lips. “We still have four nights left.” She kisses Carmilla again, slower this time, before resting her forehead on Carmilla’s and whispering. “And a matinee.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thankyou for reading! Comments are always appreciated or if you want to come visit me on tumblr at leavinginahuff.tumblr.com we can have a chat and maybe cry a little bit over fictional characters.


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